From New Heights Through Old
by sctwilightvampwolfgal
Summary: Somedays, Ladybug knew that she married the love of her life, and other days, she didn't. Falling in love is not always easy, and it can be hard sometimes to remember why. *Oneshot collection for the OTP Boot Camp Challenge that yellow 14 on The Miraculous Challenges Forum made.*
1. Purple

Sometimes it came in waves, like flickers of past experiences, stubborn, and surprising. Ladybug hated her past in the way that a job can become too familiar to be exciting anymore, in a way that distance sometimes bred contempt instead of longing. She loved the thrill of running on rooftops, loved flirting back even when she wasn't ready to take that leap, loved the thrill of knowing someone, but not knowing him.

In all those ways, she thrilled over being by his side, thrilled over saving the day, that last spike of adrenaline that kickstarts a series of chain reactions. She loved it, but she hated the color, purple, light as a feather, terribly enticing. It was the kind of color that conquered and took over what it had no right to. Marinette avoided designing purple clothes, nothing with butterflies or light purple. She thrived with bright red and mysterious black, loved pink in its light hues, found green eyecatching in its intensity, and despised light purple.  
Dark was tolerable; light was torture. Just seeing the flicker of purple in the shape of a butterfly had her moving to protect her husband as if she were in the spots. "Adrien!" It didn't matter that life with him would never be as exciting or at least not adrenaline inducing as it would be with Chat.  
Staring down into her husband's surprised green eyes and watching a decoration flutter briefly in the room, she was reminded where she was at, what she couldn't do, what she shouldn't do. "I'm sorry." It's as soft as countless love lorn letters that she'd written to her husband back when they were just dating, back when writing was as much of a distraction from Hawkmoth's disappearance, and when things felt new and so different than just being friends.

"It's fine." Adrien waved his hand, an instinct more intact now than years before, and he smiled up at her.

"I-I thought Hawkmoth was back. I didn't want you hurt." She hated this vulnerability, but she'd long learned how important honesty was, even with how difficult it could be.

"Oh," Adrien murmured, "I wish he was." His mood always became so much darker when Hawkmoth was mentioned, like a switch went off. It was almost as dark as when his father told him that he had an out of town modeling job when Marinette was super busy. He never wanted to leave her, alone, in Paris, when she should go with him. She never knew why, but credited it with being his wife, being the woman that he loved.

"Why?" She finally realized that laying on top of her husband in public looked a bit weird, and stood back up, offering her hand to the man that she'd married, that she loved, and yet never compared to Cat Noir with the rush of the old days.

"I want him gone for good." Adrien's tone was acid as he let her help him up, and there was that one wall that neither felt honest enough to bring up, that one wall that came up, and that they hid the answers from each other. You can't tell your husband that you're Ladybug, that you don't know where Hawkmoth is, and that you'd have to be one of the people that would deal with his reappearance if it happened.

"I'd like that security." Ladybug hated the threat of Hawkmoth just suddenly appearing, but she couldn't just tell her husband that she doesn't want that for the sake of not getting Akumatized or watching her loved ones get Akumatized, but instead so a part of her doesn't worry like Ladybug always has to.

"He's the worst," But Adrien smiled as he switched the topic, "So did you find your model?"

"Oh, no. Since Juan quit, I haven't found another one." She sighed, shaking her head; it was a better topic, but she hated having to hire Adrien for an informal gig as a model again. Modeling had never been his dream job, but he was stuck with it for now.  
"I can help you out." It always felt cheap to have her husband model her clothes for shoots. Casual modeling clothes that she'd made at home never felt that awful. It just made it worse that Juan would have been modeling purple, dark purple, but still that dreaded color.

"I don't want to trouble you since you already have to work on modeling your father's clothes." Marinette insisted and found herself wondering how things would have been different if they'd just bridged those identity gaps years ago, if she still had the time and energy to run on rooftops, and swing from a yoyo. It was easier to transform when she needed to, not always when she wanted to.

"I'll do it for you. You're my wife, Mari." Adrien smiled at her and though there was love in the sparkle in his eyes, in his soft smile, it never reached as far as Cat's had, "I didn't just pick a random woman off the street to marry, you know?"

"I know." Mari sighed; somedays, never felt like they used to, when it wasn't Adrien that she was starting to fall for and wonder just how to make it all work. She couldn't always be Ladybug though, and she did love Adrien. She really did! Even if sometimes, she wanted that old thrill of jumping across rooftops and racing through Paris.


	2. Tremble

Marinette's hands couldn't seem to stop shaking, couldn't seem to stop trembling, as she did her best to cling to the fabric among it all with a bright smile on her face, sparkling blue eyes, and a sort of stunned excitement that Adrien was ecstatic to have helped place there.

"I can't believe that I get to work with this! Are you sure that you want to buy this for me?" Her voice came out in a breathless jumble of excitement as she stared up into his eyes, wanting to not have him buy this for her, but stunned that he wanted to. She'd been immediately drawn to the design, the feel of the fabric, and yet couldn't afford it by herself.

"Of course." Adrien couldn't help the lazy smile that didn't ever want to leave his face as he just felt so happy, "I want to help my girlfriend out." It felt completely different and yet still similar to when they'd nervously revealed their identities to each other a few months ago, but he wasn't going to complain as excitement filled his veins up so fully. There was a certain kind of joy to fulfilling the simple dreams of the woman that he'd fallen head over heels in love with years ago.

"Adrien, you don't have to." She tried to stop looking so excited but her hands did not stop trembling in stunned excitement. Marinette had tried to make her voice sound calmer, more level, and stop rambling but it didn't get too far along before the excitement took it over again.

"Marinette, relax. I'm just glad that you're happy." Adrien smiled, trying to find the best way to make her worry a little less, "Besides, it's pawsitively adorable."

She rolled her eyes, but she was so happy that she even laughed a little bit, breathless and slight as it was. "I love you." It was soft, and while the words were still relatively new despite the various different ways that they'd shown that to each other from sweet kisses to saving each other's lives to remaining faithful to each other and how they said the words, it still stopped Adrien's heart short and warmed it in the wake of her words.  
"I love you too." Now, he was shaking too, and it wasn't from the same kind of excitement over a lucky find in a store, but over the love that often filled his heart from the beautiful woman that stole his heart with her bravery, her courage, not long after they met.


	3. Walk

It was different than the sunshiney walk of a new couple, but Ladybug wouldn't call that a bad thing with her arm looped casually around Cat Noir's, not when it felt like it belonged there, not when she felt like she belonged by his side. "M'Lady, you're sure?"

She couldn't be more sure past the burning ache in her throat at the reminder that today would be a day of new beginnings, despite being his partner for so long, despite loving him like her heart never thought it could. Her heart was so full of love, of compassion, of an almost empathy that hung between them since they'd gotten closer, since they learned truly what it was like to be working perfectly as a team.

"I couldn't be more sure, Cat. I don't like seeing you hurt." For once the Miraculous Cure didn't work, for once she hadn't known just how badly he'd be hurt right at the worst time. She'd never count his bad luck as more than the worst mix of luck and circumstances that she'd ever met, even including just how clumsy she could be when not transformed and fighting by her partner's side.

"But, I could be anybody." He muttered, as if the years had taught him anything about how important secret identities are to remain or had taught him about how to just be by her side, craving a name, but trying to forget that secret between them.

"No, you can't. You can't be anyone other than the partner that I fell in love with, the one that I solemnly swear everytime we fight, to keep safe and support. You can't be more than the man that my heart's full of love for. Don't you worry; I can keep an identity secret. I love you, and that doesn't change when the mask comes off. For either of us." She kept her hand steady on his arm; it wasn't just a casual, patrol on the days when the sun was too warm, and Paris was just pretty enough that even though it was a patrol, they both wanted to be lazy together. It wasn't one of those days; it was somehow even more important.

"M'Lady." It stumbled out, breathless as she'd ever heard his breath, more breathless than talking after kissing for a while snuggled up on a rooftop somewhere, always a different spot, but never easy for a civilian to see, "Ladybug."  
She doesn't doubt as she brings him to her home to nurture the wound in his side, that she felt guilty for not protecting him from, and she'd never doubt her love as she treats his wound, giving herself up to whatever realization comes next. She trusts him, and she knows that he trusts her too, that he'd never think of her as anything other than his beloved partner, as the woman that he fell impossibly in love with.

Ladybug's on a focused task, not detransforming as that takes up too much time, not distracted by wondering if he sees many lazy sketches of him floating around her walls, and patrol pictures in frames that she pretends she doesn't have when Alya comes over, and that lone picture snatched from the LadyBlog of the two of them kissing, the only picture that Alya'd been able to take of Cat Noir and Ladybug kissing. It's a picture that Alya gushed about for weeks as she eagerly told everyone that her OTP had set sail and likely would always be together.

Marinette had hid her smile in her hand as she tried to pretend that she wasn't glowing from Alya's support and praise, while Adrien had turned red in front of them. She'd never felt more alive with eager joy and anticipation than when finally feelings were let out, and close moments sometimes ended with kisses, even her embarrassment telling her parents that she had a boyfriend that one day she'd be able to introduce to them hadn't torn down that kind of joy.

Her walls were littered with remnants of that joy, little sparks of inspiration here or there, black fabric draped over her chair, sketches of outfit ideas for Cat Noir, civilian clothes, other styles of his costume, little doodles of her favorite Kitty just as he was. Everywhere mainly sketches, some pretend attempts to just focus on designs, some blatantly obviously were just drawings of Cat Noir. Her love never contained itself to just small moments or little fragments; it always spread to creativity, to longing, to hope. Ladybug was happy to just have something to keep little reminders up in her room, so that she'd always feel some resemblance to that kind of joy that Cat Noir sparked inside of her all the time now.

"Marinette." He whispered as Ladybug crouched down next to him, first aid kit in hand, ready to treat his wound as she unzipped his suit to get to his injured side.

"Cat Noir?" She murmured, unafraid to deal with identities now as she'd never want to close the door that had just been opened by lying to him or hiding herself away. He was always much more important than secrets and charades anyway.

"Yeah?" He muttered right before his transformation finally timed out, and Ladybug was staring into bright green eyes without a mask before she nudged him to remove his shirt, just so that she could get to the wound and stitch it up a little better. Identity reveals could wait until her Kitty was better, after all.

"Marinette." He repeated with less hesitation now that he'd shucked his shirt off and just went back to quietly watching her work, probably a million questions still running through his head after all this.

Ladybug focused on the wound, refusing to lose focus until he was all patched up and ready to be a little less pained.  
"Oh." She muttered with a smile as she glanced up to finally see her partner completely sans his suit, and though a past part of her might have just thrilled, because he was more than a familiar face, it didn't change the racing of her heart or make it less in love with him. It didn't matter just how far away this identity reveal had been, all that mattered was that her Kitty knew who she was, and that she knew who he was: the end to their walk that they'd both known would happen.

If she kissed him a moment too long from relief that he'd be fine to excitement that no more identities were hidden from each other anymore out of the two of them, he didn't complain even as her bloody fingers rested against his chest. He was the love of her life, in or out of the mask, and she'd never trade that for the world.


	4. Invite

Invitations shouldn't be glossy like that, in fact invitations were either storebought or handmade, and yet this one looked so professionally done that Marin sat down and just stared at it, trying to avoid the last name on the invite, because that always meant one or two things, and neither of them was he ready for.

Glossy, brand new with Marin's name carefully written out, not missing a single beat: Marin Dupain-Cheng, perfectly simple, almost pretty in how well executed the name was. It wasn't a label done and stuck onto the invite, haphazardly, but it was a part of it. It definitely was custom made, and he'd rather the custom made envelope be labeled with Bourgeois as then he'd know that it was a trick, a threat, and that he couldn't trust it.

Agreste could mean a million more things than that. Maybe Gabrielle finally decided that she really liked Marin's resume and hired him, or Adrienne kind of, sort of, liked him back, or, or... It could be a trick...? The Agrestes likely wouldn't trick him, but he still felt a little unsteady whenever his eyes accidentally peeked up at the name on the invite, over just who had invited him.

He'd heard all the snide remarks, especially from Chloe, about being a male fashion designer, had almost gotten used to the pricking sting, almost knew just what to expect when he hung out with Alya, as he was introduced to another girl that maybe would stop giving him dirty looks as if fashion design was never for men. There were famous male fashion designers, but he knew that few would actually or seemed to actually be interested in them, or at least outside of the realm of 'this design is really good!'

Marin sighed as he delicately traced his name back over before his eyes landed on the first name of just which Agreste had invited him to this fancy party: Adrienne. He did not sigh out of longing to just be near her or out of a sudden joy, despite how painfully his heart twisted in his chest; what if it was just a prank? Adrienne didn't have a mean bone in her body or at least that's what he'd found himself arguing.

Just, what if she decided that Marin had to be a gay fashion designer or that his designs could never be pretty enough for a girl or that he was just some socially awkward loser? Maybe Alya knew just what all this could mean. His fingers shook in a way he'd probably never admit to anyone, ever, except may be Alya if she hounded him as he gave her a call.

"What's up?" Alya sounded almost like she'd spent all night looking up another topic that interested her, with only coffee and energy drinks to keep her running. You wouldn't believe how often that happened as she tried to piece together another interesting story for her blog. Everything always seemed to be just a little heroic sounding lately, but Alya had always loved superheroes though the lack of real life superheroes in suits never stopped her. Her topics always ran from crime reports told with the mystery of a novelist to acts of random kindness: a topic that never failed to interest her lately. Research was always the first step or so Alya said. She just loved to get on scene and report with some kind of reporting, and for school assignments, always seemed to be out interviewing people to get all of her pieces to 'flow together.'

"I got an invite to the big Agreste party from Adrienne." Marin barely managed to rush the words out; his heart leaping up to his throat.

"Oh, maybe Nino talked to her? You know that since Nino and I started dating, and Nino's Adri's best friend...?" Alya let it trail off as Marin could hear vaguely distracted typing on Alya's end. She was probably typing a lazy plan of action or writing the 'first' draft to a topic that she'd heavily researched. She never could focus on just her articles whenever Marin called. She'd have to proofread the draft much more carefully fixing errors and inconsistencies once Marin hung up.

"Just... Why me?" Marin stared down at his notebook full of carefully readjusted designs that he'd decided needed some more work. They were coming along quite nicely now, but mostly had become his stress relief.

"You're a really cute and talented designer that's actually single." Alya teased or at least that's what Marin had long since decided it was, maybe leftover sibling like banter since Alya had three sisters. "What's not to like? It's just a matter of time before Adrienne falls for you."

"If I was that cute, someone would have asked me out." Marin grumbled, "Besides, hardly anyone would be interested in dating a male fashion designer."  
"Have you seen the way that Julek's big sister, Lucia, looks at you, Mari?" Alya argued, "Clearly, someone could be interested in you."

"She's in a band, and I'm friends with her brother." Marin grumbled, "That means that she'd have ample opportunity to maybe consider being more than friends with me, but not much."

"So what? I think getting an invite from the Adrienne Agreste that you've liked for, forever, would be a great thing." Alya returned their topic back to what it really was supposed to be about, "Is it handmade or..."

"It's custom made. She had to have went to a professional." Marin traced Adrienne's name with a distracted finger. It always looked so pretty whenever he saw it, and yet it never came with a promise of actually, maybe, even holding a conversation together, before.

"Oh, that could only be a good thing. You're definitely on the invite list." Alya cheered, and Marin rolled his eyes though his best friend couldn't quite see him.

"What if it's a mistake?" Marin muttered, absentmindedly, somehow just distracted enough that his freakout was a little more internal than external.

"No one mails a mistake out, Marin." Alya sighed, and Marin suddenly felt like one of Alya's little sisters.

"Okay... She probably could have. I can't be on the guest list, at all. I'm not famous, and we haven't talked, and..." Already, Marin was starting to freak out more and more.

"Calm down, Marin, just go wherever it is and see. I'm sure it's not a mistake." Alya was quick to assure, but Marin just wasn't sure that she could be right.

* * *

"Am I too bold?" Marin loved this design, had painstakingly drawn it very carefully months ago, carefully stitching it, and yet now, he felt so unsure of just how to appear before the Agrestes. His design wasn't what you'd call flashy, not at all, but just a little more on the bold side in color. An almost vibrant red subdued by a hint of darkness with black, barely there swirls that you only really noticed up close that he'd thought added a special kind of flair to the suit, keeping it from blending in with all of the suits while not appearing too flashy.

It's a double breasted suit in a modern fit style since he doubted that he should go completely slim fitting though he wasn't really broad shouldered and was mostly slim with a little bit of weight picked up from the bakery. Working in a bakery, surprisingly never made him eat a lot of sweets, but he didn't deliberately avoid them either. He'd included side vents to keep his back from showing when he'd stick his hands into his pockets to avoid flailing them about in sudden nerves and to avoid his suit from bunching up and getting wrinkled up from sitting down. He definitely did not want a rumpled suit at an Agreste event, that would look too unprofessional. His peaked lapel was only to make him seem a little taller as he'd always been a little on the short side as he'd inherited more of his mother's sides' shorter features instead of his father's height.

He'd designed solid black, flat front, hemmed pants as he liked their fit, and they went along a lot better with a double breasted suit than pleated and cuffed pants. Just, what if his color choice was too bold or Adrienne still found him a bit on the short side? He really wasn't much taller than her.

Marin just didn't want to be too bold, just like he didn't want to go too understated, and he definitely didn't want to choose a style of suit that just did not flatter him at least a little. "I know next to nothing about men's suits." Alya sighed, "I think you look handsome though."

Alya was such a hardworking supporter that her reassuring words almost never failed to bring Marin comfort, but really what if he looked unfashionable or what if he just wasn't dressed to the occasion no matter how hard he worked or his design might not be stylish enough for an Agreste event. He definitely wanted to look his best especially if he did talk to Adrienne today.

"It has to be perfect, Alya. Do I look tall enough and formal enough? I don't want Adrienne to think that I'm just an informal, short guy." Marin sighed, barely seeming to get the words out in such a hurry. It seemed that he wasn't above having a major freakout over it anyway.

"Marin, you look great, and we are not putting you in heels if that's what you're thinking." Alya shuddered, and Marin would have laughed, if he still wasn't so nervous.

"No, not heels, Alya. My peaked lapel should make me look a little bit taller. I know that I'm a bit short, and I just didn't want to 'look' short." Marin sighed, shifting; it always felt different to be standing in a suit than it did to be wearing much less formal attire. He wondered if he'd manage today; what if she wasn't all that interested in him when she held a normal conversation with him? What if he somehow appeared effeminate, even though he knew that he wasn't?

"Like, I said you look great! You do look a little taller too. Do you want to look in the mirror?" Alya asked, and sometimes Marin wondered if she really would end up completely ticked off with him.

"Sure." Marin took a deep breath, and though this wouldn't be the first time that he'd looked in the mirror, he knew that he needed to calm down. As he stepped closer, he eyed the way the red suit highlighted his paler complexion, how the black swirls added a unique blend of style, how the peaked lapel made him like just a smidgen taller. He took a deep breath; he didn't appear too thin, nor did he look more on the chubby side. He could almost pretend that he had broader shoulders, despite knowing better. Marin wasn't entirely sure that that wasn't just wishful thinking on his part. He wanted to look like a kind of man that wasn't weak and that definitely could catch Adrienne's eye, because thin, not broad shouldered men just didn't seem 'masculine' enough for her. Plus, he knew that some people justified his looks based off of his future career and not off an interesting array of genetics.

"See? You do look great." Alya stepped closer, and for a moment, Marin wished that she was invited too. She may have to struggle sometimes to cool down his nerves, and yet she put forth the effort and truly was his best friend. Without her, he doubted that he'd be able to handle some situations.

"It does look good." He turned, to almost get a full angle as he adjusted to the fact that he'd probably never think that he looks perfect in the way that he thinks Adrienne definitely does.

"It does." Alya agreed, "Maybe you should design something like this for Nino, one day, too?"

Marin nodded, "I could." Alya just probably wanted to see her boyfriend dressed up kind of like how she now saw her best friend all suited up.

"Adrienne will definitely love you in that suit." Alya beamed, and Marin tried to let that ease down some of his still present nerves, even though he doubted that they'd just go away as if it was that easy.

"I hope so." He took a deep breath, letting those old worries try to vanish underneath it all.

"I know so." Alya retorted, patting him on the back and guiding him towards the door, "Go charm her. Like I said before, what's not to love about you?"  
Marin shook his head, not entirely sure he believed that phrase despite how often he had heard it. His best friend really was his best support.

* * *

It was just different to be in his room with Alya's steady support, then it was to be standing outside the door of the party and wondering if he made a mistake. Was red too flashy of a suit color? He made sure that it wasn't too bright, and he knew that he didn't want to wear a suit that matched everyone else's suit, as then he looked unoriginal, and he didn't want to stand out in a way that made it seem like he had no fashion sense. What if this was a mistake, and he embarrassed himself in front of both Adrienne and Gabrielle? He didn't want to do that at all.

Marin took a long since overdue deep breath and moved towards the door, hoping that once he got in there, the nerves would fade, even though he doubted that they would. He stepped cautiously towards where the man doublechecking that no one tried to sneak in without permission was.

He knew his name, and he knew that this was only the first steps. Doesn't it get easier when the action is already in motion, rather than just begun? Marin already doubted that he belonged as he wasn't a famous designer, just starting out, and he wasn't wealthy by any means.

"Hello, your name, sir?" The man at the door asked, and Marin started counting to a hundred in his head to calm down his nerves. If it supposedly helped with anger, it should help with nerves, right?

"I am Marin Dupain-Cheng." He answered, letting it come out as if he wasn't currenly fighting off nerves the size of the Eiffel Tower.

"Okay, you may go on in." The man smiled that polite smile of his that he was probably trained to give every guest at the door, whether he knew them or not. Marin stepped in, and he couldn't believe for a second that his eyes took so long to adjust. There were pretty dresses of every shape and color, and suits that were mostly black, with some grays and some whites and a few other colors in the crowd.

Marin didn't quite look for any faces, knowing that the second that he saw Adrienne and her mother, that he'd be a nervous wreck, and he did not want to start that off early. He instead looked for where the food and drinks were set up and for a place to sit, fearing that his nerves would catch up with him, and knowing that having a seat would definitely keep his legs from giving out on him and sending him catapulting to the floor. His klutziness and lack of confidence weren't always the best things however.

He wasn't even half way across the room when a voice greeted him that made him stop, "Hello, Marin." He turned around to meet bright green eyes on a girl that he'd felt like he loved forever. She wore a green dress that managed to hug her chest before dropping down to her angles, appearing delicate and stunning. Marin couldn't speak for a moment as he worked to find something to say that made since. He hated the idea of looking like a fool in front of the girl he liked after she'd invited him to this party.

"Hi, Adrienne." He took a deep breath, hoping that it wasn't too obvious, "You look gorgeous."

"Thank you." Her smile was big and beautiful, and something so genuine looked way better than the way she smiled during photoshoots, and besides that he just realized how often she'd probably heard that tonight, already. She was a model and clearly her mother had designed that dress for her, and he knew that that made her stand out from the practically nameless crowd.

"I-I really mean it. I'm not just saying that, because your a model o-or anything." Marin hated his nerves as he worked to say something devent or relevant to anything whatsoever, "Do you want to dance?" Nevermind the fact that he'd never had dancing lessons a day in his life and had no idea how to dance with a girl. Movies made it always seem so easy, and yet Marin knew his own two left feet all too well.

"Y=Yes." Her smile was so much prettier in person, especially as she accepted his late offered hand, and he guided her gently to the dancefloor, counting the seconds when he didn't trip over his feet and fall flat down on his face.

He rested one hand on her lower back, feeling nervous at the contact and kept one hand with hers, and she had stepped closer as if that was the most natural thing in the world, and he already knew that this was a moment that he'd never forget. At first, they just swayed side to side as he tried to lead her, until she smiled in a way that should have warned him that she was about to step forward and take control.

'Do you trust me?' Was clear in her green eyes, though Marin couldn't quite answer it, as it seemed like such a personal question that he wasn't ready for and didn't trust _himself_ to answer.

Adrienne readjusted their positions and pulled them into a dance that instantly tested Marin's two left feet. She took the swaying away, and let formality take over. At one daring point, she even dipped him, and with her face close enough to kiss, Marin closed his eyes. He wished that they'd close that gap, but knew that they couldn't. She hadn't given him permission yet, they were dancing where everyone could see, and he was far too nervous to choke out that question here and now.

"You must be Marin." A voice cut through the end of their dance, and Marin quickly moved to stand up straight, nearly stumbled into Adrienne, and let go of her in an instant.

"I am." He could own this at least. Marin didn't want to really disappoint Gabrielle as she stood before him after all.

"That's an interesting choice in suit color." Gabrielle's gaze felt far more penetrating in person than it had in the interviews that he'd watched before.

"I didn't want to look like anyone else." He figured he'd own this now as well, "I decided on a shade that wouldn't be too bold or distracting and that it couldn't be something that looked like everyone else at such an event." It was one of his favorite designs recently anyway, one that he doubted he'd ever be able to wear to something until that invite came in the mail.

"You stood out anyway by dancing with my daughter." Gabrielle shrugged, "So that didn't really help your case."

"O-Okay," Gabrielle looked really beautiful with her hair pulled up and the deep purple of her dress. Marin hardly ever got the chance to appreciate Gabrielle designs in the person and yet this really resonated and stood clear to him.

"Who made your suit by any chance?" Gabrielle was testing him, or so it felt like it did.

"I-I did, Ma'am." Marin tried to steady his pulsing heart, knowing that this mattered, probably more than he realized that it would. Just dancing with Adrienne, her taking control of the dance, and now Gabrielle standing here, judging his design did not keep his heart beating on a normal, steady pace.

"Be confident of your own work." Gabrielle chided him, "It isn't a bad design after all."

"Th-Thank you." Marin bowed, wondering briefly and a little late if that was too much, cutting himself off before he said too much anyway. He didn't want to say that it was one of his favorites or lament about how long it took to design. He wanted to impress Gabrielle not weary her.

"Though if you're planning on dancing with my daughter at future events, pick a color that doesn't clash with hers. It's not Christmas time." Gabrielle walked away, and that felt like as much encouragment as could be received from her. Marin turned back to Adrienne as soon as she could. It just didn't seem right to leave her hanging after just about losing the ability to sound sane talking to her mother.

"She probably likes your design." Adrienne whispered, and Marin quietly delighted over the fact that his crush was so encouraging to him. Really, he did love her, even if the feelings might not be mutual yet. He could wait and hope.


End file.
